


The Blind Man's Ways

by rangopornstar



Series: The Blind Man's Ways [1]
Category: Daredevil (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Character Study, Oneshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-23
Updated: 2015-04-23
Packaged: 2018-03-25 08:41:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3804010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rangopornstar/pseuds/rangopornstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A look at what is going through Matt's head during the final conversation between him and Foggy at the end of Episode 10.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Blind Man's Ways

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this in fifteen minutes because when I find a new show that I like, I just go fucking apeshit and write bullshit.

_He hears things._

Inside, his pipes are snapping, water whistling. Foggy breathes, in and out, in and out, in and in and in and in and finally, yes, out. Foggy’s heart beats so loudly the blind man is sure it’s leaving bruises unchecked on the inside of his friend’s ribs, the blind man says nothing. Listens.

Outside, a man drops his keys down a grate, swears loudly. A dog pisses on a garbage can. Woman lights her cigarette. The static from the video billboard buzzes out a constant thrumming beat. A little boy tells his friends he can’t play right now. A couple in an apartment arguing over dirty dishes. Cars mumble. Clouds whisper. The city breathes.

_He feels things._

He can feel his bones creaking, his body squeaking out the last mewls it has the strength left to exhale through the brokenness it has finally succumbed to, his skin splitting, teeth rattling. The couch beneath his fingertips, cold, too cold, he’s too cold. The air around him buzzes with Foggy’s sense of betrayal, seems to avoid the blind man, seems to hide in the back of the apartment where he can’t get at it. He feels his old scars, the old breaks getting to know the new ones, introducing themselves to each other.

Welcome to the wreckage of the blind man.

_He tastes things._

Blood mostly. Coppery, irony, like steel, he can’t pick a metal, he’s tasted too many and his blood just tastes like all of them together. The water from the river, he tastes that, too, even now, hours later.

_He smells things._

Antiseptics. Fresh bandages. The river, still on his fighting clothes. Smoke. Foggy’s aftershave. Claire’s perfume, small wisps still left on the air. He can still smell Stick, the old smell of Stick, of chalk, and dust and dirt and that familiar scent he does not yet have a name for.

 _And he sees things_.

He watches his apartment burn. Doorframes undulate and crackle. Foggy, standing by the window, his body cast in shades of umber and flame, the image of him peeling away before it can even begin to settle.

“What do you want me to say, Foggy? Tell me what I can do to make this better and I’ll do it,” The blind man says. He hears his words hang heavy in the air and watches, in his own way, in his own unique, unconventional, unexplainable way, the blind man watches his friend shake his head.

“Nothing.”

And the blind man watches as he leaves.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment, they seriously make my day.


End file.
